A Blueprint Of Something Never Finished
by Xyliette
Summary: The destructive heights that can be reached when things are too good to be true and the feeling of absolute comfort becomes unbearable. Kevin/Addison/Mark.
1. Simplicity is Almost Enough

A/N: Clearly I need to be starting more things, right? But look! An outline. Magic. We'll be seeing Mark in the next part but I wanted to give a taste of Kevin/Addison land in this section. My thanks to Hannah for reading through and helping me out. All titles will belong to The Six Parts Seven. Enjoy-

**_~-~-~-~-~-~  
Simplicity is Almost Enough  
~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Addison watches the morning light break through the wooden slats of her bedroom blinds. The sun carves its way into the sky, taking with it the reminders of another uneventful night wasted. On her left is a man she loves, a man who loves her. Down the hall is a daughter. Further down the hall is a relatively new son. The dawn awakens them all the same. Soon it will be frenzied voices and flailing arms calling, reaching out for homemade lunches and bidding farewells of _good luck on your spelling test_ and _honey, call me on your lunch if you get a chance_.

She brushes the thoughts aside, pulling herself from bed a whole twelve minutes earlier than normal, twelve minutes that she desperately feels she'll need today in order to regroup and find the happy place. Most of the time her Tuesdays don't begin this way but more often than not these last few weeks it seems that the ten or so minutes she can scrape out of her sleeping routine is absolutely necessary to life.

Toothbrush, green. Toothpaste, full of tiny granules and mint. Towel for shower, brown and posed ready for action. The hot water hits her skin causing angry red patches but she absorbs it like a sponge and takes the tingling in stride.

Then she counts it down. She has time to shampoo, condition and begin working up a good lather on her warm flesh before Kevin will join her. They enjoy their morning showers. It allows time to reconnect and just simply be. She smirks when he steps into the cascading water at the precise time she predicted. He grabs the soap and sleepily helps her with the never ending task of coming clean because for some reason her children are the messiest in the world. He massages gently, taking time to enjoy her every body part, before kissing her neck in that one spot for a few seconds.

Then he moves down. Then up to her ear. The perfect dance that never ceases to leave her hot and bothered. When it's time she'll give a little pout and whine and try and wrap a leg around his waist but he'll insist on letting her have another type of pleasure first.

"Kevin-" he hums lightly against her center in response and for a brief moment she forgets entirely what she was doing, "I want - you."

"Already?" He asks teasingly. She nods and he lets out a small laugh and remarks about how impatient she is this morning; a morning seemingly just like all the others.

He'll oblige and she'll pretend that sliding up against the cool tile is what she wanted. She'll make believe that she is a good wife, a good mother, and then she'll explode, he'll follow suit shortly after and then they will get on with the regularly scheduled program.

Every second exactly as it was the second before, exactly as it is supposed to be.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Think it's postpartum?" Addison asks very seriously flipping through the cupboards in the practice's kitchen, trying to find the last of the peanut butter.

"Addison, Kale is two years old."

"Late onset?" Addison finally finds the well used jar, stuffed back behind the bread and reaches around to find a spoon. "Mid life crisis?"

"What's wrong?" Violet grumbles and falls into a chair with a pointed look.

"Nothing," She smiles and shovels the goop into her mouth, "Nothing, everything is great."

"Then what's the big deal?"

"I don't know." Addison shakes her head. Sometimes she feels absolutely insane.

She's happy. She's got the man, the family, the career, the house. It's all there. Most of the time she chalks it up to having nothing to reach for, no firm goals in place for just herself to go after.

"It's okay to question it all sometimes." Violet says softly, recognizing the freaked out look on her face too well.

Addison finds her own seat and sighs loading the spoon with more magic, "It's just...sometimes it's all too perfect." Violet raises her brow in silent disagreement, "We fight from time to time but it's not anything that's going to wreck us and Kevin always apologizes, even when he didn't do anything and I'm being crazy. And the kids fight. And sometimes we forget who is supposed to pick up who and I yell when Kevin wants to try for another because we already have a freakin' zoo and I don't know if I have it in me to go through all of that a third time but...it's perfect in the oddest way."

"That's a good thing." Violet reminds her suddenly, wishing she had that same story to tell about her own life. Instead, she needs to attend Charlotte and Cooper's baby shower at the end of the week and pretend she hasn't been in love with her best friend for the last seven years.

"Yeah." Addison grins, "It really is."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I think you might be just a touch self-destructive." Addison grimaces, "It's not something you can't live with just," Violet shrugs trying to think of a better term and then gives up, "don't be an idiot."

"That's your professional opinion?" Addison scowls. She really didn't think she was that obvious.

"Yes." She squeezes the redhead's shoulder as she stands, "The world doesn't need more idiots and you're above it. You have a wonderful life Addison, live it and stop letting the annoying idea that it is going to fall apart at any second drive you batty."

"Thanks Violet." She needed that. Beyond needed that. Reassurance is good every once in a while.

"No problem. See you at Coop's thing?"

"Yeah, we'll be there, kids and all."

"Yippee."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Will you think about it at least?" Kevin grumbles later that week, climbing into bed and pushing his toes out until the corners of his side untuck. Eventually through out the night he'll undo all of Addison's hard morning work and she'll be forced to curl up around him to keep her normally cold feet warm.

"I have thought about it, a lot." Addison replies and fumbles around in her bedside drawer to find her reading glasses.

"I like making babies with you." He grins and rolls over, his bare chest skimming her forearm as she settles in with another article she should have caught up on last week. Unfortunately, play dates and late dinners aligned with difficult bath times and a flu virus that spread through her house like the plague, all of it making work too much of a difficulty to care about.

"Technically, Naomi does most of that work."

"You know what I meant."

Addison sighs when his fingers begin to dance over her purple clad stomach, "It's a big thing."

"I know that. We have two already, it's not like we don't know what we're getting into."

"And what if I can't?" She asks, though the conversation has been had more than once already in their past, it seems to be something he brings up with more frequency the last several months. "There's a very real possibility that I'm done and-"

"And I will love you no matter what." Kevin kisses her temple to ward off any feelings of guilt or responsibility because surprisingly, even to himself, he seems to understand when things get too real or uncomfortable and he's proud that he can settle her neurotic mannerisms. "Wouldn't you like another?"

"Yeah." Addison lets herself dream for just a second, a split moment of a large family and a dog and hamster running loose over the floor, "But maybe only one more."

"I'm good with what we have Addie."

"Then-"

"Because it feels right. I can't explain it. I just know that I want another screaming, puking mess that turns you into an emotional wreck and makes sure that I don't get enough sleep to be one hundred percent at my job everyday."

"Oh, well when you put it like that." She bites her lip as he begins to tease under her rips, daring the laughter to emerge.

"I think," he pauses next to her ear and drops his voice, "we should probably start trying right now."

"Really?" Addison eggs.

"Nine out of ten doctors would probably agree."

She chuckles a little, never ceasing to be amazed by the little things he can say to flip the conversation on its ear and turn her attitude around. When she pushes against his chest and straddles his hips she's reminded of all the fascinating things that still happen day in and day out.

Maybe it's not all schedules and routines. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Violet had a point.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"You think it's a bad idea, you think it's too soon?" Addison asks anxiously having caught Naomi alone for just a brief second in the empty doorway of Cooper's new house. "I'm too old. I'm all-"

"Hold on." Naomi shakes her head, "Give me time to process before you freak out."

"Kale is only two. It's too soon." She nods to her son, currently amused by the large pile of wrapping paper Kevin has set him in.

"Bryher was only two when you got pregnant again. It's not too soon. Do you want this Addison?"

She pauses. Not enough for anyone to notice, "I do," she nods, "I just don't want to get my hopes up, I don't want my husband to get his hopes up. I need to make sure this is still an option."

"Then we'll do it on Monday after hours, okay?"

"Yeah." Addison mentally throws a note out to herself to make sure that Dell can stay late and watch her kids for a few minutes.

"Hug?" Naomi asks, already aware of the answer.

"Please."

She wraps her arms tightly around her friend and inhales the scent of support and love. It probably shouldn't be this terrifying.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Addison looks down at Kevin, tangled in the soft blue blanket that usually lives on the end of the couch, body protecting both their son and daughter from carelessly falling onto the ground.

"Mama. Sit." Kale demands, patting the cushion harshly, liking the control he has. He started the "no" phase at sixteen months and it is not showing any signs of disappearing. Kevin blames Addison for his bossy side. Secretly she finds it adorable.

She slips onto the end of the sofa and pulls the redheaded boy into her lap, nuzzling his sweet smelling head under her chin. "What are we watching buddy?"

"We're watching Daddy's work." Bryher peeps up and then turns back to the screen.

"Kev-"

"I promised her Add. Just five minutes and then we'll go back to whatever mind numbing educational cartoon we were watching." And he is just as wrapped around his daughter's finger as he is around Addison's. But he likes it all just the same.

"Okay." Addison relents and toys with her son's striped shirt. She tugs it down over his smooth stomach when it gets bunched up and lets her eyes well with the tears that will never be cried. She doesn't care about watching _Cops_, especially if it will get Bryher off her back about why she never gets to go to Daddy's work after school and why she is consistently stuck at the practice with Uncle Dell and Aunt Nae. It's only kindergarten and she's already proven to be a difficult charge to find daycare for.

When they hit five minutes Addison plucks both children off the couch telling the eldest she has an hour before bedtime to go play and informing the youngest that he should go see his firetruck across the room for a few minutes. "I got the tests back today..." She says softly, instantly grabbing his attention, something she has never had to fight to attract or hold on to.

"Ok." He smiles hopefully.

"Naomi- we don't think that it..."

"Honey-"

"I can't." Addison sputters, unable to finish off the sentence.

"That's okay," he pulls her into his lap, stroking her flame colored locks and turning her head away from Kale just in case she wants to cry a little, "Now we know."

"I'm sorry."

"It was never your fault. We're lucky to have what we have. This is not...a bad thing, okay?" He tilts her head upward and presses his lips to the bridge of her nose. "I love you."

"I-"

"Barren and all." He fills in quickly, sensing the impending tidal wave.

"Love you too." She murmurs through sniffles and calmed tears so as not to alarm the toddler ten feet away.

Love never had a thing to do with any of it. When he tightens his hold the suffocation begins all over again. She slams her eyes closed, repeating over and over how wonderful it is, given everything she's been through, that there is a man who willingly stepped up and stood by her side. Through the good and bad, thick and thin, sickness and in health.

She can't breathe.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

The days, weeks, and solid month following the discovery were strained and Addison did nothing to ease the discomfort. She simply picked up an extra shift on Saturdays claiming something about saving money for Christmas, though they both knew it was completely unnecessary as she works for fun more than anything else, and he nodded and rearranged his shifts so that he worked a twenty-four hour shift on Thursday and could have Saturday off to be with he kids until she got home.

On the fourth Saturday Kevin gave up. He gave in a little to the nagging feeling in the back of his mind and decided to ask what was wrong. Of course the answer was nothing and he had to press harder. The temper flared, a shoe was very nearly thrown and both children, a room away, started crying in fear when they raised their voices.

He was left to deal with the damage explaining that it happens sometimes and that everything would be fine, even if he didn't quite believe it himself.

Twenty minutes later, after cleaning up the dinner hardly touched by anyone and making sure that television remote was up high enough for neither one of his children to see, he hiked up the stairs, set the baby gate so Kale wouldn't travel out of the safe zone, and walked into their bathroom without having the courtesy to knock.

"What is your problem?"

She glares in response and refuses to lift her eyes from the bubbles in the bathtub. She strips away her robe and touches a toe to the water, experimenting to make sure she can handle the level of scalding water.

She feels hands on her hips, she notes the cool counter pressing against the back of her legs. "Don't."

"Tell me what's wrong." Kevin urges, loosing his edge and releasing her skin, still unable to get completely over the idea of taking her right here, right now in the bathroom while both of the kids are still awake.

"Move." She orders, finding it impossible to get around him. She steps to the left, he steps to the right and vice versa. There will be no getting out of this. "There's nothing wrong."

"Something is wrong." He corrects and shuffles to the side when she tries to escape again. "If you tell me-"

"It is nothing." She says painfully slow.

"Did I do something that I am unaware of? Did Kale get his hands on your favorite Manolos again?" He questions after learning the importance of shoes very early on in their relationship and the last time his son destroyed something it was because he wasn't watching him closely enough. And he has vowed to never let that happen again.

"No, you're fine, he's fine. It's all great Kevin."

"You don't want to talk fine. I'm done trying to be your husband right now." He storms out leaving her under the warm bathroom lights and hoping that her bathwater is still as inviting as it was five minutes ago.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"I'm sorry." She volunteers later that week, as he slips into bed at four in the morning.

"You're awake." He mumbles, already exhausted by his long shift.

"And sorry." She adds. He rolls over and snuggles up to her, her hair getting trapped beneath both of them.

"It's fine. Sleep."

"No, it's not fine."

"It's fine for now Addie. It's four in the morning and my eyes are not going to stay away for much longer. Just sleep. Sleep with me." He jokes.

She twists around, trying to make out his features in the dark, light creeping in under the door from the hallway. "Sometimes I just...get that way."

"I know." He says softly.

"Ok, I am sorry though."

"Me t-"

"No, just me this time." Addison tells him, silencing his attempt. Ten minutes later, coming down off her three glasses of wine and overtired state of being she announces, "I get scared."

"Of?" He murmurs half awake.

"Us. This. I wonder when it's all going to fall down."

"It's not." He counters, sensing no sleep on the horizon and a truckload of insecurity about to bubble over.

"Don't you ever get scared?"

"No." He says quickly.

"Oh." She scoots farther under the blankets, tangling their legs together, smooth skin on comforting hair.

"We're fine Addison and we're going to be fine for the rest of our lives."

She's never sure how he can be so certain about so many things but it is helpful nonetheless, "I know," and deep down she does. They could be together till they die and still be happy. "It feels too...perfect."

He laughs a little, remembering all their spats, "We are not perfect."

"No, yeah...not like that...just it's all too good to be true."

He smiles against her cheek and curses all the people that have screwed up this wonderful woman, "It does seem that way sometimes," he admits.

"For you too?" Addison says anxiously. Maybe she isn't going out of her mind for nothing.

"Sure. There's a lot of bad in the world and then, what we've got seems so...but I'm never going to let that go away. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Stop worrying and sleep." Kevin tells her, nudging her a little closer and holding her a little tighter than he would've in the weeks before. It's a bit illogical and woman-like but he gets it and they talked about it so he can rest easy now.

"Thank you."

When the light peeks in through the blinds the next morning, telling her it's time for their shower, she merely turns over and reaches for him. Every second their bodies pushed together exactly how she wants it to be because it's right. Because this is what right is supposed to feel like when you have gotten everything you ever wanted out of life.

The only problem is she still can't quite breathe without feeling like her airway is compromised, like somewhere along the way she forgot all the things she really wanted and compromised.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**


	2. Awaiting Elemental Meltdown

A/N: A big thank you to everyone who commented last time on this. I really appreciated the response to the triangle idea, which outside of the obligatory Derek/Mark/Addison I don't usually attempt. Enjoy-

**_~-~-~-~-~-~  
Awaiting Elemental Breakdowns  
~-~-~-~-~-~_**

To say that things got easier after the midnight confession would be a lie, at least to Addison, who was convinced that even if her husband thought it was weird that they had the perfect life, he certainly didn't let it affect him in any way shape or form. He still got up after her, cornered her in the shower, worked odd shifts, sometimes forgot to tell her things like when he would be home, and made dinner on Saturdays so she could have a break. She thought the entire admission would somehow make it easier, something like splitting the guilt of sins in half, or simply reduce her fear but it seemed to do the opposite.

Spent nights on the couch, complete with stale popcorn and a rumpled blanket, were used alone and in solace for fear that maybe one day when he neglected to mention he wasn't going to be home at the right time he was actually going to be dead on the side of the road. She understood the job, liked that he enjoyed it and it appeared to be his passion in life so she let it all slide. Besides he generally called when he got a chance so she was never left waiting too long. And she wasn't concerned with him taking on a power trip or using his position as a public servant for evil. He was one of the good who made the rest look bad only in job performance and dedication to the field. The only "evil" she took issue with was that he was infallible.

If she got angry he always apologized, even now, after she told him that it was something that drove her crazy. If she wanted to read her book in quiet then he would get up from their towel and help Bryher build her sandcastle. If Kale screamed to the point of making her want to sit him down on the bench in front of the stairs (a.k.a. timeout central) and never let him get up, then Kevin would step in and assume the bad cop role. He punished, he cuddled, he fixed, he treated them all how she imagined her prince charming would.

In six years the only fault she's found is that he tends to move too quickly, but it's because he always knows what he wants (and when she wasn't positive he was more than enough for both of them). He said 'I love you' too soon, he wanted their first trip away too soon, he moved in too soon, he proposed too soon, and he wanted the wedding three months later. She loved it. It used to keep her on her toes but there are no more ways to be surprised. They've got all the kids they can have, they don't need a bigger house, he will probably never switch jobs even if he gets a non-fatal wound, and something so stupidly minor as adopting a cat would never throw her for a loop.

Life has become this monotonous pattern of wash, rinse, repeat and it's hell because in her experience when things settle something has to be done to shake it up and that has never ended well. Furthermore, complicating the mannerisms of her quote-unquote destructive side, it can't happen this time. There are two little lives that are counting on something like Mommy cheating on Daddy and Daddy running away in the middle of the night never to return again not happening in their lifetime.

And the only thing she is even remotely protective over anymore is her kids. She swore that all of the bad stuff in life would never touch them, not if she could help it. Addison understood scraped knees and broken bones and C's might make their way into history but she, herself, was going to be her level best and give them everything she had.

All of which is why the nagging feeling in the back of her mind really, really needs to lay off and get a new hobby. She picked the right guy, the great guy even and had his kids and was his wife and for some reason two plus two plus two is not equaling six.

It comes up as a negative number on the scale and it makes her think she has lost her mind entirely.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"So...Christmas?" Naomi questions, shutting Addison's refrigerator after pulling out two bottles of beer. Today is not a wine day.

"Yeah, sure." Addison grabs her drink and heads out the back door to where both of her children are playing in the breeze and fluttering sand.

"You okay?"

"Yup, I'm good." Addison slides into a chair and watches for a moment as both her son and daughter pretend to like each other and work together to build some sort of sand creature. She digs her feet into the movable surface, dragging a flimsy chair along as she goes, and plops down about two yards from the pair.

"You seem distracted."

Addison takes another full swallow and asks, "What's your least favorite thing about Sam?"

"What?"

"What is the one thing you hate?" She digs her toes into the tiny particles. The feeling never gets old, much unlike everything else. "Like does he clip his toenails in bed or drink from the milk carton?"

"Addison, it's Sam. You lived with him."

"Only for a few months, and he was on his best behavior then. He had to convince you to marry him." Addison smiles at the memory. It was very brief but fun.

"True," Naomi laughs. "He never puts dishes in the dishwasher."

"That's because you've spoiled him," Addison points out.

"Could be. What's this about?" Naomi turns to get some eye contact but her friend's wandering gaze is already studying her children.

"Nothing."

"It's about something. Come on, just tell me what he did."

"He didn't do anything," Addison shrugs frustrated.

"Well-"

"He never does anything!"

"Oh this again," Naomi sighs and settles back into her chair for the flip out. It's been happening since she met him but with more frequency now that they've gotten comfortable with their routines.

"He's not human-"

"You said he always leaves his dirty socks in his shoes-"

"He does do that but...I don't mind, I mean my house is just a huge laundromat anyway so what's another misplaced sock? I just want him to be normal. I want him to-"

"Be more like Derek?"

"No, God no," Addison interjects with a moan. "I...he's so...and I'm...me."

"He loves you Addison."

"I know that." She frowns gently. "I wish-"

"He's better than you."

"Maybe, that's not the thing-"

"Oh, you mean you don't feel inadequate?" Naomi hazards. She usually sits back, swirls whatever the night's pleasure is in its holder, and waits out the waves of anxiety. Not today.

"I...sometimes...but he's...it's a level playing field Nae. He doesn't hold anything against me. He takes what I can give and he understands when I can't."

"You've been talking to Violet too much," Naomi adds with a smile before redirecting her focus. "He's not going to take off on you Addie. He's happy and he loves his family. There's no flight risk here."

There's no risk at all, except the fact that he'll probably get shot in some random traffic stop, but Addison keeps that comment to herself. "It's not him I'm worried about."

"You shouldn't doubt yourself," Naomi tells her genuinely. "You're an amazing mother, one of the best doctors in the nation, and a caring wife."

"I know that, I do, it's just...some days it doesn't feel like...that."

"You're Addison Forbes Montgomery, you'll make it work, you always do." Naomi pats her shoulder reassuringly when she threatens Kale with the possibility of no dessert for trying to chew on the filthy red plastic shovel again.

Addison smiles in response. She never took Kevin's last name. She was tired of switching and it didn't fit. But for some reason she was so sure that he did.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Baby! You home?" Kevin yells through the house, dropping Bryher's backpack by the closet, nudging the door closed with his foot and propping up a sleeping son against his chest so he can maneuver better through the trails of trucks and little plastic ponies.

"Kitchen," Addison informs him and then turns back to the mound of dishes in the sink. It never ends.

"Guess what," he demands with a funny smile and bounce in his step.

"I don't know." Addison grins at his child-like joy. She wishes she felt like that just once a year. She hasn't been as excited as he appears to be since she gave birth two years ago. Then it was pain mixed with excitement and an enticing blend of drugs. Thinking back, it could have just been the drugs that were screwing with her head.

"Come on," Kevin urges and pecks her lips as a late hello.

"I really don't know," she pauses, "you got a promotion at work...and you turned it down again?"

"No. Better." He waits to see if she'll guess again and then gives up. "I got Christmas off. Completely off. The whole week. No on call, no nights, no weekends, no emergencies. I'm off."

"Oh." She really thought it was going to be better than that.

"We can finally go to New York Add. Spend Christmas like how you always talk about with the Central Park stuff and the cocoa and the ice skating. It'll be great and we can stop by and see your family if you want." He sees her face drop and adds, "We don't have to, just offering so when they call to yell and learn that we are in the same state they are mad at you and not their son in-law who they hate anyway."

There's the kicker she was waiting for. "That's good."

"Good? Why aren't you excited?"

"I am." She bobs her head up and down trying to prove it. "It's going to be fun. The kids will love it."

"And you," he prods.

"And me," she admits quietly.

"I didn't even tell Bry, I thought maybe you would want to." Kevin snuggles Kale closer and tugs on his white shirt when it bunches up. "I'm going to go lay him down but when I get back you can tell me about all the money you are going to blow when we get there." He winks, throws her another reassuring smile, and heads out of the room to do exactly as he promised.

Ten minutes later he reappears, snakes his arms around her waist from behind and sets his stubble ridden chin on her smooth shoulder, making sure the hair lands on the strip where her tank top covers her skin so it doesn't tickle. "You're upset."

"No."

"Bad day? Did you lose a patient?"

"No." Nothing like that, Addison mentally notes.

"You seem...lately, I don't know...I thought this would make you happy though."

"I am happy," she insists.

"More happy then. I want this to be special. We don't have to go to New York. It's a vacation, you can pick...as long as it isn't Hawaii. I don't want a tropical Christmas, we could have that here. I want snow and real trees for once. I want the kids to get to see what that means."

"New York is good."

"You lived there, and you always light up when you talk about it so I figured- if it's a bad idea I'm sure someone would willingly hand over some hours or I could just do-"

"It's wonderful."

"You aren't acting like it's wonderful," he tells her, noticing how stiff she still is in his arms. He kisses her neck, warm lips dancing toward her collarbone.

"Maybe I'm just tired Kevin, it's not like this house gets cleaned by magical little elves while we sleep." She tosses her hands into the air, sending small bubbles of dish soap flying, and pushes away from his inviting body.

He stares at her, long and hard, keeping his own temper down because that never helps anything and he really doesn't like to fight with her because she cries and he feels horrible. Avoiding the whole production is the best solution he's found so far. "I can help." He steps up to the sink and reaches for one of Kale's dirty milk cups.

"No, I'm doing it." Addison joins him, shoving her hands back into the scalding water.

"I don't mind." He kisses her temple, through the fuzzy little wisps that have escaped her once immaculate hair style.

"Where's Bryher?" Addison exhales exasperatedly.

"Homework. Something about writing A's and B's, I don't know, I stopped listening. Honestly, that child could talk for ten hours and not be exhausted or repeat herself. Clearly, she gets that from you."

"I'm going to go see if she needs help." She dries her hands, deciding that it's more advantageous to get away from him.

"Ok, wait. Come here," he instructs with a quick finger wiggle. Stepping into her personal bubble, he loops his hands around her back and squeezes lightly. "You know where to find me when you're ready to talk about it, okay?"

"Yeah." Transparent may as well be her middle name.

"One more thing," Kevin tells her as she spins around. "Let's have Chinese tonight. I feel like something take out."

"Don't order from the one on-"

"I know. I learned my lesson."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

There's always been something about Christmas that makes Addison giddy with anticipation. The atmospheric shift works for her. The bright twinkling lights in window displays along the sidewalks, wreaths on doors, green branches ridiculously adorned with elegant bows and glass ornaments that sparkle and spin in the early evening light. It really can change everything. And she lets it. She relaxes and remembers to breathe, to bask in her kids' joy, to in relish her husband's need to hold her a little tighter in the city and all the activities that she has scribbled down on a nice piece of stationary.

So far they've enjoyed shopping (more accurately, the girls enjoyed it), ice skating (that only proved Kale was never going to be a hockey champion), the obligatory horse drawn carriage ride (that sent Kevin into a crazy sneezing fit), and a quick visit to the gigantic tree in Rockefeller Center (that nearly made Addison cry with the memories she never talks about). They did indeed visit her parents and let them fawn over the kids, tell her about how she was finally doing something right in her life and provide the only kind of awkward support and love that the Montgomerys could offer. Her father, finally giving into old age and retiring, shakes Kevin's hand and they savor a cup or three of spiced (spiked) cider. Her mother, insisting that Bryher be absolutely spoiled, drags all the girls to the salon for a quick pedicure while Kale busies himself with the giant firetruck that used to belong to Addison's brother (who they avoid going to see like the plague and for reasons Kevin has never been privy to).

On Christmas morning Addison surprises everyone by being the first awake and drags her children out from their beds in the adjoining room to plow through the presents under their hotel decorated tree in the living area. Kevin mumbles incoherently until he gets two full cups of coffee in him and then he wraps an arm around his wife's shoulders, smiling into her tangled hair, and trails a warm kiss over her skin telling her Merry Christmas.

Addison doesn't yell when they tear into wrapping paper and she doesn't make them hold up each gift until she can write down who sent what so she knows who to thank. She doesn't threaten taking away new toys when Kale nearly screams his head off at his sister for starting to open one of his presents because she didn't see the tag. Instead she politely grabs the box and settles him back at her feet, knowing that really all he wants to do is destroy things and then go down for a nice nap.

She does however get a little misty when Kevin gives her his gifts including a promise to try and take a larger quantity of time away from work so they can travel and be a more traditional family. She laughs it off because they both work too much but appreciates the sincerity behind the thought more than she lets on. And he smiles brightly when she hands over a few neatly wrapped and ribboned packages for his pleasure. Then they spend the rest of the day in pajamas playing, sleeping and snuggling while the sky whispers down a thick blanket of white snow for everyone to admire.

And when things draw to a close and the luggage is situated on the long carts it came up on she turns to her husband and thanks him for sacrificing a few hours to be with them for the entire holiday season, something they hadn't, until now, ever been able to achieve. Hand in hand they meander down the short aisle and get their children strapped in and ready for the long journey back to humid California.

They never do get around to talking about what was bugging Addison but as the plane climbs through the clouds it seems less and less important, especially given her laid back attitude in the last week.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Addison!" Naomi screeches, chasing her through the halls at the practice.

Addison turns around suddenly halting, nearly causing her friend to run right into her. "You bellowed?"

"Charlotte King needs you."

"For?" Addison purses her lips. None of her patients should be there and she hasn't heard of anything big or new coming into town.

"I don't know, she just called in a panic and demanded that we send you over. I had Dell take over the rest of your patients."

"Okay," Addison nods and begins heading back to her office to gather her purse and to call Kevin and let him know she may be late for their anniversary evening. Six years today it all happened.

"One more thing," Naomi tells her sticking her head into the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"Mark's there." Addison's face flashes in confusion and Naomi watches it clear. Before Addison can open her mouth to ask Naomi has the answer ready. "He stopped by while you were in New York and I told him to go away. He's not good-"

"That was nearly a month ago Nae!"

"I know but I thought we could sort of get around this. Anyway, he's there so...just so you know. In case you see him or something and think you are starting to hallucinate."

"You didn't tell me?!" Addison exclaims trying to follow Naomi, who purposely walks into the waiting area to greet her next patient ensuring that her friend doesn't stand a chance.

With an indignant huff Addison is whisked away by the elevator not-so secretly hoping to see her long lost "buddy".

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

She sticks around after the emergency surgery, which as it turned out was not really an emergency but a relatively important person telling Charlotte King to get the best damned doctor in Los Angeles to the hospital now. She paces the locker room, drags her feet in the halls and studies the OR board in search of his name. Then she gives up and decides that if she is going to legitimately only be a half hour late for her special dinner then she needed to leave ten minutes ago.

Ignoring her cellphone in her purse she opts for the stairs, checking the last possible place Mark could/would ever be. She grabs her buzzing pager and groans when she sees Kevin's cell number flash across but before she can make any headway on calling him back the person she was "not" looking for is two feet away, seated on a cold step, leaning into the railing, an juicy apple hanging from his lips and a surely sticky patient file in his lap.

One deep breath and a steady mind she straightens her back and continues forward. "Mark."

"Add-ison." He nearly jumps in surprise and wraps her in a warm hug before his mind can register that it's probably inappropriate given their history and the gleaming rock he saw on her left finger earlier today.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in town?" she demands, a hand finding her hip, a smile on her face.

"I tried," he shrugs and tosses the apple into the trash a next to the door.

"Naomi." Addison shakes her head knowingly and then they fall silent. "So...what are you...why St. Ambrose?"

"I had to get away," he tells her.

"Whose wife did you sleep with this time?" Addison jokes.

"Callie is pregnant," Mark answer softly.

"Oh," Addison steps back, out of his personal space barely aware that she was still in it. "That's great Mark. Is she-"

"It's not mine."

Addison frowns for him, knowing it's what he wants to be doing and replies, "Well, that's a relief...right?"

"Yeah, I guess." He shifts on his feet.

"She was with you...until now?" Addison asks, understanding the look on his face. When he nods she can't help but want to hug him again. Sure, he's a screw up but life could be kind more than once in a while and give him something good. Everyone deserves a second or hundredth chance.

"Something like that."

"You needed a change."

"Worked for you." Mark lifts her left hand, admiring the place where he always, though scared out of his wits most of the time, wanted to put a ring.

"I suppose it did," Addison acknowledges.

"I should get going. Surgery." He points to the door and watches as the once old flame moves out of his path. "It was good to see you Add."

"You too," she sputters as he hurries away.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Naomi, he is hurt. You should have seen his face...I've never seen Mark Sloan look like that over a woman," Addison tells her friend as they gather for lunch at an outside table. Although, provided if she had seen him after she left New York for Derek then she would know the face well.

"I don't think it's a good idea and I never said he was a horrible person who didn't have feelings," Naomi corrects her, sliding her fork into the invitingly crisp lettuce on her plate.

"I'm married. Nothing is going to happen-" Addison stops herself when she realizes how foolish of a thing that is to say. "It's...we were always friends. You remember that."

"He was in love with you then," Naomi points out.

"No. I was with Derek...and he was annoying and...no," Addison shakes her head refusing to give credit to the truth she has always feared. "I think he needs someone."

"You can't be his someone anymore Addie. He needs a new someone. I thought he and Derek were buddies again, why is he even here?" Naomi takes another forkful and tries not to notice how happy and bizarrely scatterbrained her friend seems to be over the prospect of hanging out with Mark Sloan.

"Callie cheated on him...or she's pregnant with someone else's kid...and they were together. I don't know. I didn't get much out of him."

"Shocking," Naomi mocks and sips at her lemonade. It's one in the afternoon and she feels like a drink. God help them all if this is what Mark returning does.

"I'm an excellent friend."

Naomi laughs, her mouth full. "I know." She swallows. "You can't be friends with Mark though. I know you want to and I know you don't like seeing him hurt for whatever reason but you can't do this. It's not your place and it's not fair to Kevin or the kids. Use that brain Add." She tosses a piece of bread at Addison's hair as her face falls. "It won't undo anything that happened between you two. You can't fix the past by being there for him now."

"I know," Addison sighs and pushes her salad around the plate some more. The guilt never fades. Neither does the stirring she gets in the pit of her stomach when she sees her ex-fling. These are the things she has learned in the last week.

"He's doing good. He's doing the right thing by not involving you. Don't take advantage of him," Naomi warns.

"I just wish there was something I could do."

"There is. Keep it in your pants and stay the hell away."

Addison pouts in response, making sure that Naomi gets the full experience.

As her parting last words while they search for their cars on the street Naomi offers, "Don't let this get to you. You love Kevin."

"I do," Addison smiles, pulling her sunglasses down over her eyes. She thinks she may also still be in love with Mark. She's not sure that ever went away. She's not certain she ever gave it the chance. She has no clue what is going on but she doesn't want it to stop. "I'll be good."

"Atta girl." Naomi waves goodbye, sending her friend off to finish the rest of her Saturday at home, where she belongs. With the people who support her and make her strong, not the one who makes her question everything and turn into an emotional ball of shame and regret.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Three days later Addison came up with a plan, one to save her sinned soul and a once close personal friend, and in turn it would keep them all in check. "Kevin, I invited someone for dinner, ok? A friend from New York. Remember Mark? Yes, that Mark," she explains to her husband on his lunch. "No, something simple. I can cook. No, that's alright. See you soon. Love you too. Bye."

Four hours after she tossed her phone into her purse and rushed off to buy groceries and pick up her son and daughter from the new sitter's she finds herself pulling the perfect dish off the stove. She never cooked for Mark. He never cooked for her. Mutually, they always ate out...or had simple things like peanut butter and jelly. She cooks for her family though. She does a lot of things she never used to do.

Setting the table and making sure all of the plates are straight and the silverware clean turned out to be a harder challenge than she thought but Kevin smiles at her efforts and tells her not to stress because Mark is a man and from what he understands not a man who will notice that there is china on the table as opposed to their normal dishes and flatware. The doorbell cues on time and Kevin tells her she's adorable for being nervous, clearly not understanding the implications.

"Hi, I'm Kevin." He offers his hand to Mark who shakes it heartily but can't help his eyes from wandering the place he's never seen and the photographs he is not a part of. Mark follows behind his host until they are in the kitchen and he doesn't notice that they are both grinning dumbly over the same woman. The difference is Kevin is able to approach her thirty seconds later with a kiss on the cheek and help her fill everyone's cup with their desired choice and seat their son at his special spot around the table.

"This is good," Mark mumbles softly to Addison, seated one chair away, a small girl in between them with spaghetti sauce all over her face.

"Thank you," Addison replies and nudges Kevin to help Kale with his bread when he gets impatient and begins picking out the center.

"So, Mark," Kevin clears his throat. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh," Mark chuckles a little. He knows nothing about this guy and these kids next to him. Guess Seattle Grace does know how to keep a secret or three when it's important. He wonders if Derek knows.

"Sorry to hear why you are in town though. That's never easy."

"Not exactly," Mark agrees, hoping to get off the topic.

"You're a plastic surgeon?" Kevin asks.

"You are like Mommy!" Bryher squeaks next to him, her mouth brimming and her words so muffled that the 'are' is virtually nonexistent. Mark looks down puzzled by the small human being.

"Yes." Mark glances at the redhead again, her hair spilling out of its pigtails. "I help people like...Mommy." He's so nauseated by the whole thing he could actually vomit, but instead he shoves more pasta in his already full stomach to save himself from having to talk.

They finish the awkward meal with discussions of work and Mark learns that Kevin is a cop, finishing his last few years on SWAT, dreading the day they make him come off the rotation and he actually has to accept a promotion. They look very happy and he's pleased that Addison got everything she should've had to begin with all those years ago but Mark would be lying if he said he didn't wish it was his face next to hers in the family portrait by the door; if he said he hadn't been thinking that Bryher really could've been their child instead.

"I was...if it's okay, do you want to go out and grab a drink?" Addison asks, clearing the table as Kevin escorts their children upstairs to get cleaned up.

"Probably not a good idea Addison," Mark nods, hating himself instantly for causing the demeanor change that's about to happen; hating even more than he knows that is what is going to happen.

"It'll be alright. We're grown ups Mark. I...you...it's...it would be easier to talk, don't you think?"

"There's nothing to say," Mark shrugs and grabs a few plates and cups to help her out.

"Don't be a sullen child Mark, I have enough of those already."

"Yeah," he accepts. "They look like a good bunch."

"They are," Addison smiles easily, "But this isn't about them. It's about you. It's your turn."

"I think I'm gonna pass. I have an early day tomorrow."

"Pass on what?" Kevin asks, joining them, one red faced little boy on his hip.

"I was just asking Mark if he wanted to go out and grab a drink."

"Show him the good spots," Kevin tells Addison, handing over their son when he reaches out for her and begins to cry.

"Exactly," Addison jumps in, siding with her husband, rubbing her son's back soothingly as he begins to wind up.

"I could check and see if Sam would watch the kids for a few hours," Kevin tells Addison looking out their kitchen window to see if their neighbor is home. In the process he catches a glimpse of her confused face. "Or...you two could go. I should probably be with them anyway, I haven't been home for bedtime yet this week."

"You sure?" Addison asks anxiously, beginning to sway from side to side in mommy mode.

"Absolutely." He snags Kale away from her and sweetly kisses her lips in reassurance before walking into the living room to distract their son from the fact that his mother is leaving him.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Addison leads him toward her car after deciding that since she knows where she is going and probably won't be heavily drinking that she should be the designated driver.

"He doesn't know does he?" Mark dares, reluctantly securing the seatbelt across his lap.

"He knows." Addison flicks on her headlights and reverses out the driveway.

"Not the whole story then," Mark argues and receives a challenging stare in reply. "No man would let you leave with me if they knew the whole story."

"He trusts me."

Mark saves himself from telling her that he shouldn't, especially with him, and simply comes back with, "I'm not here to be your fuck buddy Addison."

"I don't recall asking you to be." She signals onto a new street and keeps her eyes on the road. She had to have known this conversation would be occurring and yet she didn't foresee needing to come up with the right answers for some reason.

"You never do," he retorts angrily.

"Mark, listen, what we had...I'm trying to be your friend. You need a friend."

"What's in it for you?"

Addison ignores his fairly decent question because she has no answer. She doesn't even know what she wants to get from this, she just knows she has to do it. It's not even a choice. "Nothing is going to happen."

Never mind the fact that suddenly the sum of two, two and two are brilliantly illuminated as six for the first time in the last year.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**


	3. Saving Words for Making Sense

A/N: My apologies for the unforgivable turnaround time on this one, it refused to be finished sooner. On with the end, enjoy-

**_~-~-~-~-~-~  
Saving Words For Making Sense  
~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Addison tiptoes into her own house, throws the black purse on the kitchen counter, wiggles out of her heels, and trips up the stairs all the way into her bedroom. She grins at Kevin, sleeping peacefully in their bed, and hastily begins removing clothing. Then she scurries to him, hopping up onto the mattress as ungracefully as possible.

"Addison?" Kevin asks, eyes sealed shut.

"Hey..." she slurs.

"What time is it?" Kevin finally takes a look at her, and gets a strong scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke. "You had a good time I take it."

"I could be having a better time," she suggests, playfully running a hand along his bare chest.

"You're drunk," he tells her, noting that this is the third time in a month that she's come home mostly inebriated after hanging out with Mark Sloan.

"A little," she giggles and pulls the white comforter down to shimmy in next to him. "Sleep with me Kevin."

"I was trying to sleep alread- oh," he gasps as her hand firmly trails south under his sweats. "Ok."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"You two need to learn how to keep it down," Sam tells Addison later that day, tucked into the kitchen of the practice.

"Maybe you should learn to sleep with your windows closed," she refutes with a smirk, a little proud of herself and the mind blowing sex she almost completely remembers. Her aching thighs tell her it must have been fantastic, more than once, in more than one location but the details are on the blurry side.

"You guys used to be wonderful neighbors until," he grunts in disapproval stopping when Naomi shakes her head. Sam disappears willingly, wiping sleep from his exhausted face and taking in coffee like it's his salvation.

"He has a point you know," Naomi adds as Addison fills her glass with green gunk.

"Oh please Naomi, try and tell me that you and Sam-"

"I'm just saying...ever since Mark has been in town it's like you are trying to prove a point...to who I don't know but-"

"He has got nothing to do with this," Addison interjects immediately. Sure they go out and drink. Sometimes smoke, and she knows, oh God does she know but she needs it after certain days. And sometimes they dance, grinding up against on another until someone has to take a break but nothing has happened. Not even a kiss on the cheek goodnight. She's on her best behavior and Mark is trying diligently to stay interested in the blondes that swirl around him.

"You keep saying that and the funny thing is I believe you less and less each time. What are you doing?" Naomi rounds the counter and traps her friend up against the refrigerator.

"I'm not doing anything, I haven't done anything wrong Nae."

"But you want to."

"I'm happily married. And you were just complaining about us being loud during...s-so-"

"Sam was complaining, I'm well acquainted with your...sounds and how to sleep through them." Naomi pauses for a second, completely off track and way beyond the point she is trying to prove here. "You were out with Mark last night?"

"Yes," Addison answers in a fury, slamming her glass down on the surface next to her. "We got a drink after I my surgery was finished at the hospital. We ran into each other in the elevator- I didn't plan...anything."

"And the kids?"

"Kevin was off yesterday, what are you getting at?"

"I'm just saying...when was the last time you and Kevin went out for drinks?" Naomi pats Addison's shoulder.

"I..." she pauses in thought. "It's...that's...Naomi, I'm tired of saying this. I'm tired of trying to convince everyone in the world that he is just a friend. Because he needs a friend and nothing more. I thought you trusted me." She heads toward the door, leaning against the polished glass. "I thought out of everyone you would get this."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"No one likes that we are friends again," Mark tosses at her, later that week as they skillfully navigate through their drinks at their new favorite bar. It's new, trendy, and the age curve is just perfect.

"Not really," Addison grunts and swirls the stick around her glass some more.

"Maybe we should-"

"Look, Mark I'm not interested in what the rest of the world thinks about this. They don't know us, they don't know what happened and if they can't understand that we can still be friends then...they don't get to have an opinion. We're being adults...this is...good. Healthy."

He watches her hands flail around cutely, something that he has always adored and swallows the thickness that has worked into his throat. It's been great, wonderful, and all other adjectives that he can't think of when she is within ten feet. Nothing has happened and he thinks, more and more now, that maybe nothing will; that maybe she was telling the truth when she said he needed a person and she wanted to be it.

But other times, when his hand slides along her curves longingly, or when his body responds to the way she sways her hips, he thinks this may be a horrible idea. One set up for failure and history repeating. He loved her then and she was off the market and now he probably loves her if he would allow himself to think about it and she is still taken. Nothing good can ever come from this set of circumstances...or maybe, maybe something could. She's got him upside down and backwards, left to play catch up, as usual.

"Fuck them," Mark nods, ordering up another scotch.

She smirks, still enjoying his appropriate sense of timing with less than polite words. "Yes. That." After another long sip she succumbs to the numbness. "We dancing tonight?"

He looks down at her heels, shiny and delicate. "We may. If you want."

"Yes," she decides and gulps back the remaining droplets before reaching out for his hand.

It may seem silly that they are pushing over the hill and still enjoy moving to the beat but she's always had a thing for dancing. She likes the way the anger and resentment of the day washes away, she likes getting her heart pumping a little harder, and admittedly it isn't half bad that Mark gets to hold her close and pretend to do something other than two step. He tries, and he's willing to try. For her, that is.

"How was work?" he asks, edging closer and glaring at the man with dark hair in the corner eying his woman.

"Work...was work," she sighs and knows he will take it the right way. It's been so nice to talk to someone who gets it.

"It's getting old," Mark admits.

"It kind of is," she says sadly. She never thought it would. Saving people, fixing them, and all the glory that came with it. She thought she'd be doing it until she was one hundred. But, in truth, it takes its toll and leaves its branding emblem. Really, she's had just about enough.

"It used to be exciting, looking for surgeries, trying to learn everything, trying to beat you at everything but now...I'm running out of things."

"Mark Sloan is finally growing up," Addison laughs loudly. "I never thought I'd see the day that you wanted more than a woman in your bed at night and a scalpel in your palm during the day."

"There are more important things." He holds a hand up when she tries to speak. "I know it took me a long time, longer than most people in the entire world but...I get it." His eyes shuffle to the floor. "I'm so sorry Addison."

She grins weakly, not liking the sudden turn of conversation. "Callie really messed you up."

He shakes his head violently, liquor sloshing. It was never her. It was residual feelings for this very relationship and all of the realizations he never wanted before. When he moved down here he didn't think he had a chance in hell but...he had to check. He had to be positive before he moved on and committed to anything else. "Something like that."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Addison?" Naomi pokes her head into the dimly lit office. "You're still here."

"Yeah." Addison clears her throat and looks up from the file she wasn't reading. "Catching up."

"Everything is okay?" Naomi takes a small step forward, very aware of the face that her friend is wearing and everything it leads to.

"Everything is great," she answers bravely. It's all been so...fantastic, which is the problem. Everything that was wrong, everything that seemed too good to be true kind of fades away when Mark is around. "What are you doing here so late?"

"I had a patient who was running late and didn't want to reschedule."

"Ah."

Naomi lingers for a second longer, fingering the cool metal of the doorway. "Addison-"

"I can't just walk away from him Nae...I can't do that again. He deserves someone who will..." She rises from her place and grabs her black coat, carefully buttoning it.

"It's hard," Naomi acknowledges.

"It's impossible."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

As the weeks slip by it gets easier to swallow. The drink dates gather in amount and frequency. The conversation flows without awkward pauses. They speak of the old times, the good times and what they now know. They talk about a few people in Seattle, Addison once trying to grace upon Callie unsuccessfully and Mark sometimes asking about Kevin and the kids, to which he gets one word answers. They have a short list of subjects not to bring up, things not to push.

And the magical thing is it works. Drinks turn into dinners and dinners sometimes into walks along crowded sidewalks. Simply sharing, enjoying the company of another, or someone who has been there through the good, bad, and very ugly.

But now, as she holds her screaming son, she's beginning to think she may have been an idiot. She rubs his back, slowly tracing circles, swaying from side to side as Kevin's car begins to rumble out of the driveway and heads toward a quick shift that he voluntarily bolted out of the door for.  
_  
Daddy!!!_ repeats over and over and over until she wants to scream right along with him.

"Make him stop," her daughter instructs grumpily marching downstairs in her purple pajamas, red hair already crinkled and knotted.

"I'm trying Bry, just go back up and sleep." Addison points toward the stairs as Kale hiccups in her arms and winds up for another round, face still puffy and stained with salty tears.

"Where's Daddy?"

"Work sweetie. He'll be here in the morning." She kisses her daughter's head and gives her a little nudge toward her very yellow room.

"He wants his bunny," Bryher says sleepily, rubbing her eyes and setting down one bare foot on the wooden stairs.

She pauses, wonders why she hadn't thought of that, and then responds, "Goodnight Bryher, love you." She hears a faint remark, not the one that used to make her heart twitch and begins searching for the pale blue patched bunny that gets drug around everywhere from the supermarket to the beach. He turns up, astoundingly, in the two year old's bed and Addison takes the advantage of trying to get him to settled down. She pushes back his mess of hair, and kisses a red check, letting her hand run down his soft face.

Undeniably, they both strongly resemble her but she sees a lot of Kevin in her son, in his mannerisms mostly, but also his eyes, the eyes that are telling her that she's doing something wrong. "Kale, Dad will be back soon. Stop it."

What she gets is a piercing _Daddy!_ complete with elongated syllables and a whiny tone. She knows he is overtired and without a nap on the day but a little piece of her breaks, cracks and she pulls him back to her and wanders to the master bedroom, Winston the bunny hanging dangerously from her spare hand.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Kevin climbs through his house, over a treacherous maze of toys in the hallway and finds his wife with their son on her chest, trailing a finger up and down his spine (the oldest trick in the book of Kale).

"He okay?"

Addison shakes her head and prays that her own tears don't begin. "He just missed you."

Kevin smiles and ditches his boots, tugging on his belt and letting the black pants fall to the ground. He leaves the shirt and his boxers and clambers onto the soft sheets. "He misses you too."

"I hate this stage," Addison tells him. "It's exhausting."

"You sleep at all?" He asks, switching gears. It's not a stage that he was talking about and they both know it.

"Couldn't." She bites her lip, teeth digging into the tender flesh.

"I'll go put him in bed-"

"No," she cuts in. "I just...want to hold him."

"Okay," he nods and then pulls the covers up over his waist. "Night Addie."

"Night," she replies, noticing for the first time the distinct lack of warmth in his voice; wondering where the three extra words that always used to follow that sentence went.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

She's tried to cut back, a little, so her children can remember who she is and so that she can still be satisfied in a way she hasn't been in such a long time. Mark was the magical solution the entire time but the potion definitely has some side effects, ones that she is not willing to accept or deal with. She wishes this wasn't so difficult, that it could be twelve years ago where two or three people could hang out without anyone thinking something horrible. Apparently she has lost that right of expectancy.

"Kevin," she pushes on his fingers that are digging into her hip, "you're hurting me."

"Oh," he gawks, looking down at his own hand and loosening his grip. "Sorry." He presses his lips to her check and surveys the area again, looking for Mark Sloan. The man seems to be disinterested with where Addison is in the room compared to the conversation he's holding with a brunette but every now and again Kevin can see his eyes hesitate in their direction.

Addison glances at her watch, aware of the fact that time is moving painfully slow. This is unequivocally one of the most boring functions she has ever attended, even if it does have an open bar. "Wanna head home early?"

Kevin frowns, not wanting to scurry away before his point is proven. "Don't you have to be here for work?"

Addison take stock of the fourth floor, their newest addition, all decked out and then declines, "No. I don't think anyone will notice."

"Naomi might," he looks over at the woman who is beaming, clearly proud of their new accomplishment.

"Kevin...we have the entire night to ourselves and you want to stay here?" she dares, raising her eyebrows and turning to face him.

"I just don't want you to get in trouble," he explains and pecks her lips, persisting longer than appropriate for her public/work displays of affection guideline and not caring.

She detaches herself from him, noting that his voice is far off. "What is...why?"

"I just told you-"

"You aren't even looking at the person you are speaking to," she argues and turns around to see Mark with his arm around some woman's waist. "Great." Storming off really does sound like the best option, considering her night out with her husband can't even be about them but instead she downs her drink and excuses herself to call and check in with Maya who is watching both of her temperamental and flu ridden children.

Kevin sighs and reaches out for a glass when the waiter bounces by. He misses her, the kids do also, but mostly him. He misses the way she used to be around them, so...different and if he had to guess possibly less true to herself. The logic was merely that he thought she could use a night out with a friend every once in a while. He did not expect it to turn into a weekly event that surrendered their time together; he wasn't expecting her to be so damn happy about it.

So, with about three glasses of bubbly champagne in his system, he walks over to Mark Sloan and watches as the short woman makes up a reason to get away.

"Hey man," Mark greets, reaching out and taking his hand.

"Hey," Kevin smiles and gets ready to begin.

From her view point all Addison can see is Kevin's back and Mark's tight lipped facial expression. It is bound not to end well so she hurriedly rushes Maya off the phone, saying that she doesn't need to talk to Bryher about anything and nearly runs to intervene. "Hello," she purrs, slipping in close to Kevin, who once again restrains her tightly against him.

Mark nods and drinks, "Naomi plan this thing?"

"Yeah," Addison smiles, knowing what he is about to say. "Boring," they both agree at the same time, bashfully hiding faces when their timing upsets the other member of the trio.

"I think it's nice," Kevin counters.

"I bet Sam thinks so too," Mark laughs and grins when Addison's mouth turns up in appreciation.

"What? I mean she obviously cares about the place a lot," Kevin states, dipping his fingernails into Addison's green slinky dress, that he definitely plans on removing soon.

"No, we know," Addison attempts, "It's just..."

"So Naomi," Mark finishes for her and they both laugh again, this time Addison noting her husband's discomfort.

"Kevin, how are the bad guys?"

Kevin clears his throat, not at all prepared to take a hit on his profession, "Plentiful."

Mark refuses to reply and instead gets lost in Addison's pose. Wound into the man next to her, yet resisting as much as humanly possible, her body tight and uncomfortable. "Want to dance?" He offers a hand out to her, daring her to set them both free.

"No," she says softly, wincing as Kevin's other hand territorially comes around and pulls her flush against him. "We need to get going, the kids are sick."

"Sorry to hear that," Mark nods cordially and tells them goodnight, secretly wishing that he was the one taking her home, children and all.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"I didn't say anything to him-"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore!" Addison yells just loudly enough, barely over the hum of the radio as they come to a stop in traffic.

"I do," Kevin shouts back. "Maybe I want to talk about it for once."

"What is there to say Kevin?" Addison challenges and deftly swipes on another layer of lipstick, trying to distract herself from the conversation and potential break down.

"I don't like him."

"I don't care!" She laughs incredulously. Of course he doesn't like Mark, what man in the world does?

"Well, I don't want you to hang out with him anymore," Kevin says, bringing his voice down and letting it quiver in the dark, damp air of the car.

"You don't get to do that," Addison refutes.

"I have a say Addison. I'm your husband!"

"And Mark is my friend. We aren't ten years old and you aren't my father. I choose my own friends, thank you very much."

"You are never home," Kevin attempts, changing the avenue of the fight, trying to make her at fault. "The kids don't even recognize you-"

"That's ridiculous!"

"Kale always wants me and up until two months ago if you were in the house he refused to let you put him down. What is that? And Bryher...she doesn't even talk about you anymore. She doesn't ask where you are or when you are coming home-"

"Stop it!" She instructs demandingly. She won't hear this, nothing about how she is as a mother. She loves her kids, and that is unarguable. There has to be a balance. It just may take a while to find it.

"And you don't talk to me at all. I know it was rough there for a minute but I thought we were okay. You used to at least tell me about your day and now, now I see you more asleep then I do awake!"

"We have busy jobs," Addison interjects. God knows they are both workaholics.

Kevin looks down at the steering wheel and loses it, just for a second, his composure as controlled as the blaring horns intermittently going off outside their windows. "We have a problem Addison and you won't even take me seriously enough to discuss it."

"That might be because this isn't a discussion. It's you, yelling at me about feeling inadequate around Mark Sloan who I shouldn't even need to defend and yet you make me. You make me tell you over and over that he is a friend and that it is nothing and that you are the only one I want. I'm sick of it. You don't want to believe me, then fine. I couldn't care less." She sniffles, the stupid tears finding their way out of her eyes, and recoils instinctively when he reaches for her hand.

Kevin runs the rejected fingers through his hair and closes his mouth. She has a point but he could've sworn that he did too.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Getting a reoccurring sense of déjà vu Naomi hovers into Addison's office, smiling at the two sleeping redheads on her couch. "Working late?"

"Avoiding home," Addison answers honestly and clears the take out food off her desk, making space for Naomi to take a seat and stare at her inappreciatively.

"Trouble in paradise?" Naomi teases and instead takes a seat next to her godson, brushing a rogue wave out of his line of sight.

Addison purses her lips and drops her head, giving up the charade for another person. "I don't know what to do. We fought and now...we aren't talking except in front of the kids. It can't turn out like that again Nae, I can't...take that again."

"It's not going to turn out any way. Just talk to him Addison." Naomi shuffles back on the couch when Kale stirs and pulls him into her arms.

"He won't and I can't stand to be there." She pushes a few more papers around her desk, reorganizing for the morning. The work morning that she will be returning to in less than eight hours.

"Addison, you already know the solution to the problem and don't look at me with those innocent eyes and pretend you don't. Let him go."

"That's not going to fix...what happened with Kevin," she pouts, surprised over the last two weeks how much she has missed his embrace and kind words. She never took him for granted but it's still been a shocking journey. She's suddenly overwhelmed with loss for all those moments she thought were too perfect; the ones that were riddled with guilt and unworthiness.

"Couldn't hurt."

"I shouldn't have to give up Mark just to make my marriage work. I shouldn't have to let go of a friend just because he is insecure and afraid-"

"I'm not going to debate this with you," Naomi interrupts. "You know and have known since day one what I thought about you and Mark being friends. It doesn't work and now, now you are hurting other people Addison. It's not a harmless relationship. It never is with him." She situates Kale on a stiff pillow and covers him with his dingy baby blanket. "Is he really worth everything you've made for yourself in the last few years? Everything you've worked for?"

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"C-Callie," Addison stutters and pulls back her front door letting her in. "What are you-"

"I need your help," Callie says gently, hand resting on her growing stomach.

Addison ushers her into the living room, kicking a dump truck out of the way as they plow along. "Sit."

"You have kids?" Callie laughs, looking around at the house and the family portraits mixed in with the hodgepodge of decorative art.

"Two," Addison acknowledges. "Bryher and Kale. They're five and two."

"They're cute." Callie smiles at one of the pictures, noting how everything seemed to have turn out for Addison. "You found a man even."

"Kevin," she tells her, "he's upstairs putting the kids to sleep but he'll be down shortly." And thank the heavens for this buffer so they don't have to pretend to be too busy to look at one another. "So, you need help?"

"I need Mark back," Callie says weakly. "I thought I could do this...without him. I thought I was strong enough but I can't."

Addison's brow furrows in confusion, certain that Callie was the villain here. "What do you mean?"

"I'm having his kid. Kids, plural, actually. And...I told him. I thought he would be happy. We weren't trying for children but we were together. He ran. I mean, like an idiot, I expected it to be all perfect but he just left town and said he needed time to sort stuff out and that he'd call. Which he hasn't."

"Oh." And suddenly it becomes one of those moments where everything you know just shifts into a parallel universe. Of course he ran out on her, of course he lied about it and of course she believe him.

"I was hoping you'd seen him...I need to talk to him, or maybe you could talk to him for me. Explain that we don't need to get married and have the dog and the house. I just need him. I can't...do this alone."

Addison squeezes her hand quickly, without thought. "You are never alone Cal."

"Thank you." She wipes at her tears, blames the outrageous hormones, and prepares to plead for assistance, proving once and for all that she is still a weak woman whose feelings waver and is rather codependent on the man she thought had been reformed.

"Hey, new person, in my living room," Kevin jokes and takes a spot next to Addison. "I'm Kevin."

"Sorry," Addison jumps in. "Kevin this is Callie, we worked together in Seattle and Callie this is Kevin, my husband."

"Man candy," Callie laughs and Addison nods adding to Kevin's confusion.

"What brings you to the sun Callie?" Kevin asks as they die down.

"Baby daddy drama," Callie grimaces and returns her hand to the twins who take sincere pleasure in pulverizing her insides.

"Mark," Addison clarifies and it takes everything in Kevin to keep it cool.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. Night Add. Callie, nice to meet you." He kisses the top of her head and drifts to the second level of the house hoping this plays out like he wants.

"Callie, I don't-"

"Please Addison, I know we suck at staying in touch and you don't owe me anything-"

"Okay," she agrees easily, watching the pregnant woman a few feet away get very worked up. "Okay."

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Mark!" Addison yells down the hall of St. Ambrose, making damn certain that he hears her, along with every other nurse in between them. "Mark Andrew Sloan, stop this instant!"

He freezes, knowing this has something to do with the visit he got at his hotel room last night from Callie. "What?" he snarls and gripes when she takes a hold of his arm and drags him into an on call room.

"You lied to me! You said Callie cheated on you-"

"No, I didn't. You said that and I let you believe it."

"Oh, big difference. What the hell were you thinking Mark? She's having your kids!" Addison taps a finger against his forehead and he stutters back into the closed door.

"I'm not talking about this with you. It's none of your business."

"It is, you are my friend, Callie is my friend. This is my business."

"Just stay out of it Addison." His hand blindly reaches for the door handle needing an escape.

"She came to me Mark, at my house, begging me to tell her where you were. Be a man and grow up. You don't have to be with her if that's not what you want but you need to be there for your children and so far all you've done is abandon them."

"They're better without me-"

"Don't even start with that pitiful excuse. It doesn't matter if they'd be better without you, they still need you. She needs you right now and if you are going to lead her on again for a few more months then I will take it upon myself to make sure that she does everything in her power to make your life a living hell." She pushes him aside roughly, and slams the door as she marches back out into the bustling hospital.

It had to be done. Which is precisely why he never told her the truth to begin with.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

"Maybe we could go away? You could get a weekend off," Addison suggests, rolling over into the cold spot between their bodies and trying to snuggle up to him.

"Maybe," he placates and then turns onto his side, away from her, and switches off the lamp.

"Kevin, I want this to work."

"Yeah," he mumbles into his pillow. Callie being with Mark lately has turned her attention back to him which basically just makes the whole thing worse.

"Please talk to me," she begs, bordering on the edge of hysterics.

He flips over and eyes her angrily. "Addison, I may be a cop but I'm not completely oblivious."

"I know that," she objects, "I never said you were stupid Kevin."

"You expect me to think that if Callie weren't hanging around this last week we would even be having this conversation? Hell, that you would even be home right now instead of out drinking."

"I-"

"Save it, I'm tired."

"Kev-in," she cries, her voice cracking in the dim light of the moon. He's never been this angry with her. "P-please."

He listens to the sobs and after five minutes swallows the lump in this throat and pulls her over to him. He frowns when she buries her head in his neck and begs him not to leave her and says that she'll do better; she'll be better, just to not give up. He strokes her hair, and brushes away her tears not promising that it is okay, or that it will be, simply that he is there and to calm down.

When she finally takes a shaky breath in nearly thirty minutes later, without the aching in her voice, she tells him, "I love you."

"I love you too Addison," he says genuinely and pulls her closer, letting her get ready for sleep. "I want this to work out too."

Oh, the things she would trade to just go back a few months and deal with the perfect surreal aspects of her life.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

Mark paces Addison's office nervously. One step forward, then another. The stupid receptionist said she would be done ten minutes ago but she wouldn't be Addison if she wasn't a slightly behind schedule.

"Mark," Addison gasps, looking up from her file when she runs into something thick. "Jesus, you scared me."

"Sorry," he replies earnestly and pulls down the hand covering her chest. Then he freezes, gets stuck with their palms pressed together. "I-"

"I need," she pulls her hand away and brushes it against her skirt.

"I told Callie that I would try," he laments stepping back and tugging on a strand of her hair, letting his fingertips faintly track over her jaw.

"That's good," she mutters softly, lost in his touch.

"You," he whispers next to her ear, "were right."

She smirks, "It's a gift." Naturally, she moves forward when he backs away, not sure of what is happening, only knowing that she isn't the one who can stop.

"Addison," Mark warns when she's within inches. He's powerless around her and yes, it is absolutely pathetic and no, he has no self control. He's just a pawn. He finds her red wavy locks and tangles a few fingers at the base of her neck, breath catching when her hips bump into his.

Addison closes her eyes, taking in the warm scent of him. Light and spicy. Free and all encompassing. She'd devour it if she could. "Mark."

Then they dangle on the ledge, in limbo waiting for someone to trip, waiting for the inevitable to happen; flat out daring the universe to prove to them that they've grown up and moved on.

When he hesitates and reality slaps her across the cheek she moves away from his puffy lips, parted with anticipation. "We can't do this anymore. We can't be friends."

Mark's pupils dilate in fear. His world is about to fall down again. "You said-"

"You...you have Callie and-"

"I don't want her," he says, letting the implication that he wants her fall silent.

"We can't," she tells him tearfully, letting the last relic of her old life begin to slip away. She should've known better. "I have Kevin. I'm married...and I won't be that woman again. I can't."

"Can't or won't?" he asks angrily, taking a seat on the edge of her desk. "Are you even happy with him?"

She doesn't answer. She can't. Her heart is screaming something completely different than what her head is telling her to do and right now she's actively choosing not to listen to either. Maybe he is just supposed to be her perpetual what-if, maybe she's not ever supposed to know what could've been.

"We're fine," Mark blasts through her thoughts, "we're good as friends Addie."

Addison shakes her head in refusal. "I'm falling in love with you Mark."

When she turns her back on her own office and graples with the handle she hears him yell, "You can't walk away Addison. You made me need you, you did this!"

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**

She no longer cringes when Kevin wraps his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder. She doesn't contemplate the many ways she could screw this up, because she's already proven to herself that it's not a risk she can handle any longer. A life was made, by her, and she'll be damned if she loses it again because of her stupid heart. Kevin may not be the great love of her life but she does love him and in the end it's enough. It's all she has.

When the sun barrels in through the compact slits of wooden blinds she scoots a little to the left and relishes in the act of her husband beginning to rouse. He reaches out across the two sleeping children between them and toys with the hem of the white shirt, wishing her a good morning with a look on his face that tells her she made the right choice; the only choice, no matter how unfortunate and self sacrificing.

Every second is exactly as it was the second before, exactly as it is supposed to be.

**_~-~-~-~-~-~_**


End file.
